


This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race

by EnemiesWithBenefits



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Big City Life, Big Sans, Can you and Sans just make with the hate-sex already?, Do it, Excuse Grillby, He's just a huge flirt is all, I'm literally just making this up as I go, It's getting rib-diculous, JUST, My take on Underfell, Never take any of my tags serious, No reader is not a racist, Oh man everyone's a jerk, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader Is Not Frisk, Sans you fucking creep, Stalker, That's the whole point of the story, Tsundere for DAYS, Whatever it may be, Wow, cursing, gender neutral reader, heh, you have a dog
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7711915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnemiesWithBenefits/pseuds/EnemiesWithBenefits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's fucking <em>snowing</em> and you're miserable.</p><p>Worst of all? There's a giant prick of a skeleton thinking you're some kind of racist. You're out to set the record straight that it's not monsters you hate, just him.</p><p>Or, the fic in which Reader and Sans hate each other and it makes it all that much sweeter.</p><p>Title and Summary subject to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Looking Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> " _I'm not a racist - you're just a fucking prick._ "  
>  2 pages, 602 words.

The cold really shouldn’t surprise you as much as it did, considering where you used to live. Only, after living in such a humid, warm place for so long, the heat became a comforting constant. Something you knew how to deal with due to fresh practice. The cold was something different altogether – something you had to go out of your way to deal with.

 

Which led you into your current predicament; hurrying down a street filled with flashing lights and cutting wind, hurrying past blurred faces and speeding cars. Flurries of snow flew about in absolute tizzies, melting on the ground as soon as they landed. Streetlamps illuminated cracked pavement and foggy storefronts, condensation building up on the rows of interior windows passing you by.

 

It wasn’t even that late and yet the moon was out, yet clouded by wisps and rolling grey clouds. You kept huddled close in on yourself, sans a jacket or umbrella. You hadn’t been prepared in the slightest, and it _was_ more or less your own fault. You had a depressing tendency to never really watch the news – which included the weather forecast – but, once again, your own fault. You really should be better about that.

 

You ignored the looks thrown your way – ‘ _who the fuck is crazy enough to go in this weather dressed in only **that**?’ – _ and bit your tongue. It wouldn’t be long now, your downcast gaze tearing from your step on the pavement beneath you to the tall skyscrapers that rose tall around you. If you remembered correctly it was only on the next turn ahead, and you’d be out of this miserable weather-

 

You turned down 2nd Ave. only to nearly run face first into someone – immediately sidestepping, knowing it hadn’t been too close of a call that public manners would dictate you apologize. Nevertheless, just as you continued on your way a firm grip found your shoulder, trying to stop you. Whoever this asshole was, he better let go – you definitely weren’t in the mood, soaked thoroughly.

 

“hey-” Trying to shrug off their grip, you jerked your shoulder and tried to keep walking, gaze glued firmly on the sidewalk. You hadn’t done anything to deserve this – why couldn’t this stranger just keep his hands to himself? “hey! don’t you have any fuckin’ manners?”

 

“Don’t _you?_ ” You snapped, spinning on your heels. The sight of a large, tall skeleton fuming at you did nothing to deter you. “I didn’t do _nothin’._ So please kindly _fuck. off._ ”

 

At your choice words the monster did nothing but sneer, although the wide-set of his hollow socket’s showed his surprise. It’d been a long time since someone stood up to him like that – although that didn’t mean he was unused to racism and discrimination. He regathered himself, glaring down at the small, brave human.

 

“what? you gotta _bone_ to pick with monsters or somethin’?” He bared his glistening teeth, the sight making you narrow your own irate gaze. You weren’t afraid of someone like him – you knew with so many people walking by, watching the two of you with quick looks, that he wouldn’t _dare_ try anything.

 

“No. I’ve got a special hatred for pricks like _you_ who don’t know how to let it go and get over themselves _._ ” And with that you turned around for the last time, the dismissal heavy in the air. What kind of fucking jackass was he? You didn’t do _anything_ to him and yet there he was, automatically assuming you were some racist piece of shit human. As if!

 

Ugh. Why did you ever have to move into the city?


	2. Impossible Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _If it should bother you, it didn’t._ "  
>  923 words, 3 pages.

Great. Just- great.

 

You really couldn’t get it out of your head – that encounter with the skeleton monster, that is. It’s been _days,_ and yet you can’t help but feel… guilty. Maybe you _should_ have said sorry, even if you hadn’t even bumped into him or anything. The least you could’ve done was try and handle the situation like a rational adult – not like some snot-nosed punk. Least of all like you were a _racist._

And now, somewhere out there, there was a big monster with your face burned in mind labeled ‘asshole’. You really hated making such a horrible first impression – but you’d been cold, wet, and worst of all, upset. It hadn’t helped when not only a day later you’d gotten sick, more than likely due to your excursion out into the city. Why the hell you had to leave home so urgently still confused you.

 

It didn’t matter – right now you’re halfway to the bottom of a gallon of ice-cream, two comforters piled thick on top of your immobile form, one large albeit comfy dog on top of that. You can feel your fever slipping away, the previous heat dying down despite the aches still plaguing your sore body. The couch may not be the most comfortable thing in the world, but the couch was where the TV was, which was where you could watch your favorite shows in peace.

 

Well, could have – if you could get a certain _skeleton_ out of your thoughts.

 

For a monster, he was as intimidating as the next, all fangs and talk. You remembered feeling the ache of his firm grip on your shoulder hours after, and that had told you more than enough about how capable he was – how capable all monsters were. But you weren’t scared of monsters. Not in the slightest. You didn’t hate them either. They were just people, another busy body on the sidewalk, coming and going until they weren’t.

 

Be it dust in the wind or eight feet under, it doesn’t matter who you are – you’re alive _now,_ and that’s what matters. It means _you_ matter.

 

And monsters mattered, one way or another, especially when they crawled their asses out of a hole in the ground and proclaimed themselves contenders for the earth – all but screaming to the sky they were here to stay. And stay they did – there’d been hundreds of thousands of them in that tiny hole, a cavern stretching deep, deep into the center of the earth.

 

It hadn’t taken long at all until monsterkind was allowed citizenship, unto which they spread forth and multiplied- wait. You’re getting _way_ too dramatic. Then again, you hadn’t heard about monsters until nearly a month _after_ they first appeared, your first impression being made through gossip and hear-say due to an apathetic refusal to watch the news. Everything you’d heard at first had been nothing but lies and horrible exaggerations.

 

Since Monsterkind’s arrival, you’d watched the people around you grow distant – floating from you, like lifeboats at sea abandoning a capsized vessel. Years had passed, and you watched the seasons go by one at a time, over again and once more until three years of calendars made their way into your trashcan. Nowadays you keep to yourself, locked away in your recluse apartment with your only companion in the world – Sansa.

 

If it should bother you, it didn’t.

 

Scoffing aloud, you took another spoonful of the ice-cream, ignoring the way it dripped onto your shirt. It was melting, and here soon you’d have to trash it. Ugh, nearly half the container – _wasted._ You took another spoonful, eyes caught on the TV despite your mind being far away.

 

It just didn’t sit right with you that someone thought you were a racist – normally you wouldn’t give a fuck what others thought, but something like this just unnerved you. Especially when he thought it was directed towards himself and monsterkind. You were _not_ one of those stupid assholes who hated monsters, claiming they belonged back in the ground – either as dust or sealed away, you didn’t think they cared.

 

With a grunt, you placed the tub of melted ice-cream on the ground by the couch, then reached further for your notepad and pencil sitting idle on the coffee table. Quickly thinking, you flipped to the next available page and wrote down a note to your future self in sloppy, shaky handwriting. You probably wouldn’t remember the feverish resolution later on, when you would most likely regret eating half a tub of ice-cream and falling asleep on the lumpy couch – which you had the full intention to do so, once you were finished writing the reminder.

 

Looking it over with glazed eyes, you threw the items back on the table, watching just long enough to watch them land safely. You were beginning to feel the medication you took not so long ago kick in – a heavy weight seemed to drop upon your body, mind puffy and laden with thoughts of bones and spray-cans.

 

Shuffling to further hide yourself in the covers, you felt Sansa twitch before settling back down. Eyes closing of their own accord, you could feel yourself slipping away – nodding off to the sound of whatever idiot show daytime television decided to grace you with.

 

On the neat coffee table sat a notebook, hastily thrown with some of its pages folding and still open to the recently used page. Scrawled in messy print it read: 'if see skeleton again, kick ass for calling racist.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just... filler. Basically.
> 
> Might be a few mistakes, tell me if you see any? Also, tell me what you think!
> 
> Also, can anyone tell what I'm doing chapter titles based off of?
> 
> Love ya'll!


	3. I Can Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _You didn’t give a fuck anyways._ "  
>  1704 words, 5 pages.

It’s not even a few days later until you’re put back on your feet by an increasing need for food and a sense of stir-crazy that’s going to make you go insane and punch the TV if you have to sit there and watch one more damn cooking show. You’re out of microwave dinners and making spaghetti noodles with just butter and seasoning is growing old. Your full fridge beckons at you, but you aren’t in the mood for actually cooking and _doing_ something. Besides, you want _out_ of your apartment – _now._

After initially checking to see what it was like outside, you’re relieved to find it’s pleasant, if not a little warm. The weather’s everywhere this time of year apparently, and you aren’t quite sure if it upsets you or not at the fact it reminds you of home. Instead, you focus your thoughts on better things – definitely not on skeletons who deserve a fist to the face – like where your feet will take you today.

 

Part of you is convinced to just try your luck at a store and restock your freezer filled with microwavable delights. That or find someplace to sit down and enjoy the smell of pollution in the air, watching pigeons and people alike flocking to the humming streets. It’d be nice, you reason, to actually enjoy the money you have instead of living like some kind of college drop-out – which you definitely are not.

 

Eventually, you find a quant place tucked in-between two large shopping centers, hidden behind the ruckus to get inside for some kind of seasonal sale. You roll your eyes at the light crowd, miffed at the ridiculous sale tactics especially with Christmas more than three months away. At least the café you’ve found seems nice, despite not having any kind of outdoor seating area. Although, you can understand with where it’s placed.

 

Stepping inside feels like walking into a warm embrace, the cool neutral tones lathering the walls and fixtures easing your weary mind. Someone calls out to you – a practiced greeting from a lounging barista. It’s not even that busy inside – but you aren’t sure _why._ Chalking it up to luck, you stand a few feet away from the counter, pretending to eye the menu. You’re actually getting a good look at the place.

 

Two people behind the counter – the lounging barista and a teen early into his adulthood. There’s an elderly couple sitting in a far corner, a mother and her child standing in line before you, and a man in a sharp suit near the window, watching the clouding vapor of his coffee mark the glass. It doesn’t seem all that bad, and with that, you take your place in line.

 

The teen rings up the woman and her daughter, and you step up, ready to order. Before you can say anything, however, the door opens behind you and suddenly that warm, tender feeling of ease disappears at the sound of a chime. You pay no mind, you don’t even turn around, ignoring the sudden tense lines of everyone’s shoulders, and you notice how not even the mother hides her scowl.

 

Whoever it is doesn’t get a greeting like you did, nervous shuffling and the swishing of something on the dark wood of the café meeting your ears above the smooth classical music playing above.

 

“Sir?” You try to catch the teen’s attention by addressing him, and with a nervous glance he turns back to you, seeming embarrassed to be caught staring at what is most obviously a monster that just entered the café. With a stutter and flush on his face, he quickly takes your order and rings you up – hot chocolate and a bagel, nothing too much.

 

Satisfied, you walk away from the cashier to wait for your order, catching sight of the monster. They’re short – but bulky. Yellow reptilian scales cover their entire form, and you’d very much like to say they resemble some kind of dinosaur if anything. They’re wearing a sundress of sorts, the lovely red accenting her heated blush. You think she looks incredibly nervous, hands fiddling in front of her as her tail swishes lightly from side to side.

 

She steps up to order, only the lounging barista – which had quickly become tense and aggravated upon the monster’s arrival – cuts in front of the nervous teen.

 

“We don’t serve _freaks_ like you.” She all but spits in the monster’s face, the monster quickly ducking away and looking somewhat nervous. “Why don’t you just get the fuck out, got it?”

 

“I-I just wan-wanted-” She tries to speak, a nervous stutter making her nearly impossible to understand.

 

“Hey!” You walk over, feeling your patience snap. For a moment the Monster seems to step away from you, as if they’re worried you might yell at her. You instead turn to the barista at the counter, giving her what you like to think is your best glare. “Don’t you treat her like that. She’s _not_ a freak.”

 

You pause, letting a wide grin stretch across your lips.

 

“Besides, you’ve _got_ to serve freaks – especially with people like _you_ working here.” Satisfied with the sudden admonished look in her eyes, you ignore the looks on you and turn to the monster, meeting her wide gaze. “C’mon,” You offer, shrugging towards the door. “Let’s go someplace else. Somewhere that doesn’t have _freaks._ ”

 

And with that you take a fidgeting, sweaty hand in your own, ignoring the smooth feel of it as you begin to stride for the exit. There’s no way in _hell_ you’re going to stand for this. Pulling along a nervous and flushed monster, you leave and make a vow to never return to whatever that place had been. Fuck the crowds outside, walking on the street and bustling to get inside the stores nearby.

 

You didn’t give a fuck anyways.

 

 

 

 

“Alphys, huh?” Swirling your straw inside your drink, you leaned your head against your hand, eyes caught on the monster seated before you. After everything, she seemed a lot more collected once you’d taken her somewhere more tolerant, a favorite diner of yours. She’d been explaining to you that she’d been looking for something to give to her girlfriend as a gift and had stopped to get something to eat. And well, then that whole mess had happened.

 

“Yeah. Um, Thanks you again se-” You cut her off by raising your hand, not really one to do well with excessive praise.

 

“It’s fine, Alphys.” You smiled loosely at her, taking a sip of a drink that was quickly growing cold. “People can be pricks, I understand. I just did the right thing is all. Ugh,” You scrunched up your face in slight disgust, setting your drink down. Explaining more or less to yourself; “Never tastes right when it starts going cold.”

 

“But it’s not often people stick up for monsters!” She added, seeming insistent on telling you just how happy she was you had helped her. “I mean, a lot of people don’t like us… and a lot of monsters _can_ be mean… it’s… I really appreciate it?”

 

You had to smile wider at how unsure she sounded, knowing she really was trying her best. If what you knew to be true was right, then Alphys probably didn’t talk to humans very often in a casual, friendly manner like this impromptu brunch. And she _was_ right – most monsters were assholes, despite being apparently made of compassion, love, and some other bullshit.

 

Eh. But Alphys seemed nice – and you really did enjoy her company, par the circumstances it came into being.

 

“Like I said, Alphys – it’s really no problem. I really couldn’t have just done nothing when it happened, y’know? It was wrong, and I really didn’t appreciate how they treated you.” It was nothing less than the truth – you’d always been a bit bull-headed and blunt, and when you saw mistakes, you were quick to point them out. Not out of some kind of rude intolerance, you just knew that stupidity really shouldn’t be tolerated, not with the world as it was today. Then again, when it came to injustices like the discrimination against monsters, it made your blood boil.

 

For a few long moments the two of you sat together in comfortable silence. The diner itself was warm yet small, much less high-end than the other place. It was more secluded, too – hidden away and tucked in a lesser known part of town. The clamor of early risers filled the air around you, the rush and bustle of a busy kitchen completing the ambiance. It was nice and it reminded you of home – and once again, you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

 

“H-hey… can I-can I have your n-number?” Torn from your thoughts you turned back to the monster, still stuck with a loose smile on your face. Not even really thinking about it, you pulled out a beat-up looking phone from within your pockets, and handed it over to Alphys without a word. You watched with a patient gaze as she shakily entered in her number before giving it back to you. Pulling out a clunky looking phone herself, it wasn’t long until your phone buzzed with a message.

 

_____, Today at 11:34 AM

*** Do you like anime? ^.^**

Alphys, Today at 11:35 AM

*** Of course! O.O**

You couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at the text she’d sent herself on your phone, and her own text in response. Deciding to play along, you met her own nervous glance with a sly one, the tell-tale noise of you typing on your phone a little loud.

 

_____, Today at 11:35 AM

*** Haha me too.**

*** We should watch some together sometime, y’know? Might be fun.**

 

You almost laughed aloud at the sudden choked noise Alphys made, glancing over to see her in complete surprise, the sudden excitement on her features clue enough to make you decide the whole venture out today had definitely been worth it. How could it have not, especially with the ecstatic joy coming off of Alphys in waves?

 

Alphys, Today at 11:36 AM

*** Ohmygosh!!!!!!!**

*** We should!!!!**

*** Like, watch anime together???**

*** With Undyne too!!!!!**

*** aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!**

Needless to say, Alphys was pretty happy.

 

You were too, surprisingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote four chapters in four hours.
> 
> Yay?
> 
> Look out for Errors haha! Tall me what you think, too! <3
> 
> Edit- Alphys does seem a lot like normal, but I actually have some plot set up for her w/ a backstory and everything. So if you're curious why she seems more normal than underfell should allow, I promise you'll find out soon enough <3


	4. I Don't Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _got somethin’ to say, bitch?_ "  
> 1169 words, 4 pages.

Leaving the dinner with a full stomach and an invite to waste next Saturday evening watching anime with a new friend, you feel lighter than usual as you walk down the street. It’s a good day outside despite the weather being pretty unbearable and unpredictable, but today is nicer than normal. It’s just right, and despite the usual pollution, the sun is shining out clearly from a sky filled with puffy clouds.

 

Everyone around you seems more open, less strained as you take the thirty-minute walk back to your apartment, mind caught on how you’ve done well to serve that prick skeleton wrong. Even then, part of you still feels unaccomplished, as if there was more waiting out there for you – a nagging sense of anxiety that urged you on your feet and moving, just like the evening you ran into tall, dark, and edgy.

 

It’s not a feeling you’re unfamiliar with, but it’s definitely a feeling you hate. The trouble it's led you in through the years is by far much bigger than any good it’s brought you. Not to mention the sleep lost due to the restless ache in your body to get up and just do _something,_ be _somewhere._

And it’s that the very same feeling pulls you towards a nearby park, the sound of people filling the air. Not just the sound of shuffling feet, loud cars, and open windows – but of dawdled time, talking, and most importantly – life. The park you were nearing was pretty large, filled with its fair share of both humans and monster’s alike, all people, but seeming to enjoy the day around them.

 

It’s then, however, that a familiar red catches your eye.

 

Feet kicked up, chair tilted back, and red iris glinting from a half-lidded gaze, the skeleton from nearly a week ago sits in a wooden hot-dog stand.

 

It actually takes you a moment to collect yourself at the sight – in the light he’s much bigger than what you remembered, black jacket thick and open to reveal a red sweater beneath. Black shorts hang off of his femurs, yellow tennis-shoes covering his feet. He’s probably nearly a foot or so taller than you with how big he seems – then again, monsters were built to be intimidating.

 

No, wait. That was just more rumors and bullshit. You’ve really gotta stop listening to people gossip when all they’re saying is crap. Then again – this skeleton monster is most _definitely_ intimidating, sharp smile lined with equally sharp teeth, red eye-light sweeping across the park.

 

Eventually, his gaze lands on you.

 

You must be nearly fifty yards away. How the hell he picked you out so quickly is a mystery – then again, you found him rather quickly too, but that had only been because of the big ass wooden stall he was sitting in, selling hotdogs - if the sloppy paint saying so was correct. Deciding to be brave, you meet his gaze with equal measure, trying to seem not so much confrontational as confident.

 

And then. He fucking. Winks.

 

What. The. Fuck?

 

More than a little confused, you tear your gaze away. You really shouldn’t be around this asshole if he was going to demean you – then again, you remember your note from a few days ago and decide it's now or never. Steeling your resolve, you begin to make your way over, following the natural path around children playing and joggers doing their noon runs.

 

He’s not even looking at you anymore, and you watch as a woman walks up and starts talking to him. Curious, you keep coming closer, ignoring the way they both seem to laugh and enjoy each other’s company, as if they know each other. Although, as you come closer, you watch as she hands him some money and he gives her a hotdog, it being nothing more than a friendly conversation.

 

As she walks away, something in you relaxes - you aren't sure why.

 

You walk up, ignoring his smug grin and the way he watches her as she leaves.

 

You don’t say anything. Shit. What were you _supposed_ to say? You sure as hell weren’t apologizing. Bastard didn’t deserve it. And you weren’t going to punch a monster that looked like he could tear you in half with his fucking _teeth_ alone.

 

Eventually, his eye-lights slide over to you and the awkward feeling in the air turns into tension. You _really_ hate the way he’s looking at you now, gaze eyeing you up and down as if checking just how much you're worth. You’re sure as hell worth more than a _bag of bones._

“got somethin’ to say, bitch?”

 

Oh, it’s _on._

“What was that?” You fume, leaning against the stand. You’re half tempted to pick up the bottle of mustard next to you and squirt him with it. Then again, you aren’t _that_ mean. But… you _are_ cruel enough…

 

“what, you got hearin’ problems too?” He chuckles, voice rolling out in a deep baritone as it vibrates from within his bones. “never know with human science these days – for all i know you’re just really good at hidin’ your age or somethin’.”

 

“At least I’m not just a fuckin’ _skeleton,_ ” You snap, coming at a bit of a loss. You were here to try and clear the air – not make him hate you even more. Then again, _he_ started it.

 

He sits up, lifting his feet from the counter of the stand to face you more directly. There’s genuine mirth in his gaze, despite him being a skeleton. It’s a little weird he can express emotions so fluidly.

 

“you got a death wish or somethin’, kid?” You ignore the obvious threat, bristling all the same.

 

“If I did I wouldn’t be talking to some stupid bag of bones like _you._ ” Oh man. You really aren’t making much headway with good comebacks right now, especially with your heart a jackhammer in your chest. What the fuck was it with this skeleton that made you so _mad?_

“that right?” Voice taking a curious tone, he shifts to face you better. “you gonna go pick on some other fuckin’ monster instead?”

 

Again with _this_ bullshit.

 

“I don’t hate monsters.” You snapped, ignoring his raised browbone and the supposedly impossible implications behind it. “I just hate _you._ ”

 

He narrows his eye-sockets, the lights inside turning small as he seems to scrutinize you – as if you might be lying. As if! But if an asshole like him refused to accept the truth before him, so be it. You didn’t – _shouldn’t –_ give a fuck about what he thought anyways.

 

Too bad you still _did._

“name’s sans, dollface.” With another wink in your direction, you paused, wondering why the sudden introduction. Wasn’t like you were probably ever going to see him again – or wanted to, for that manner. He held out a hand, the large bones reaching towards you glimmering ivory in the sunlight.

 

“_____.” You didn’t take his hand. Instead, you walked away, deciding you've had enough bullshit for one day. Too much and you might snap.

 

Sans just watched as you walked away, a burning gaze following your every step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter for now!
> 
> Love ya'll! I'm gonna try and sleep haha.


	5. Heathens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _His imposing, sharp teeth glint in the warm light much alike his bones, the solid enamel glimmering._ "  
>  2149 words, 5 pages.

You might not _need_ to work, but it definitely wouldn’t do well if you just stayed home all day doing _nothing._ Par working your part-time job you don’t have any other obligations anyways – and you need _something_ to do to keep yourself from going insane. Seeing a meaningless sum of money drop into your account every two weeks doesn’t really do anything other than mark the passing time.

 

Despite how much your job keeps you moving – which you’re appreciative for – there are still times it frustrates you to no end. Sometimes things get way too out of hand for working at the animal shelter, and other times the job itself just about breaks your heart. With them being so short-staffed already you _try_ to come in as often as possible, but sometimes it’s just unbearable with the guilt gnawing at you all the time. You already _have_ one dog, and even then you had to pay your land-lord extra despite it being against the rules. If that wasn’t the case, you would definitely get more.

 

You’re almost done for the day anyways, eyes catching on your wrist to check the time. It was close to 10 PM, the shelter long closed. You’re just getting little things done – feeding some dogs, checking on all the animals one last time before the night is truly done. It might not be your job to be doing these late rounds, but you always feel more secure when you’ve taken the chance to wish everyone goodnight and check on them one last time. It never hurts, anyways.

 

As you finally leave after waving goodbye to your boss, you can’t help but feel like you should do something _other_ than just head home. Part of you is tempted to just let your feet carry you, another part curious about heading back to that park from the other day. Sure, it might be dark out but with this being such a big city people were out in mass, and you didn’t feel uncomfortable or unsafe in the slightest.

 

You stand on the sidewalk for a moment, back to the shelter, enjoying the crisp breeze that dances through the autumn air. It’s slowly getting colder, and beyond the rising skyscrapers you can make out the distant Mount Ebott. The sky is thankfully clear, the moon hanging full and ripe, partially concealed by a large building. You can only count a handful of stars that smatter along the sky – if there was anything you hated about the big city, it was being unable to really see the stars with the whole light pollution thing.

 

Deciding to just let your feet take you along, you walk in the opposite direction of most of the people crossing your path. You’re heading into the monster district at this rate – or at least into a part with a lot less people and big buildings. You were already on the edge of Downtown anyways, and it would be interesting to see what the Monster District was like. It’s nice to watch the transition between the two areas anyways, as crowds turn into one or two people at a time, the occasional monster growing more common, busy, full streets becoming much more open to allow traffic room to breathe.

 

It isn’t long, however, until the smell of charcoal permeates the air.

 

Confused, your eyes glance skyward – you don’t see any smoke anywhere, but it _is_ a rather strong smell. It’s not bad per say, and despite anything the surprise is welcome. It’s a smell that seems to wrap around you, warming you inside and out – familiar and comforting, you follow your nose, wanting to find the source.

 

Eventually you find it – a lit up bar catches your eye, a stout building with worn, red brick and tinted windows that glimmer in its own light. A bright sign above proudly announces ‘Grillby’s’, a certain charm coming from the lively nature of an open door, light spilling out into the street. You walk closer, watching as a group of monsters leave, the sound of jaunty music following them out.

 

More than a little intrigued, you come closer and catch the door with your foot before it closes. The door’s a little heavier then you expected, and you push against it so you can step inside. Immediately you’re hit with a wave of warmth and rugged charm, the wooden style and dark colors speaking out in volumes at how well-loved this place is. An unknown tune catches your ears beyond the din of people talking, and you recognize it enough to remember it’s something from The Underground.

 

You look around as you walk towards the bar, eyes catching on the patrons as a few glances are thrown your way. While most seem neutral, there’s quite a few hostile looks but it’s nothing you’re not used to. Despite the sound of everyone enjoying themselves there actually isn’t that many people inside – a group of rugged looking mutts play poker at a table in the center, a bird-like monster face down at the far end of the bar with a feathered grip on their drink, and two other lone patrons who sit in separate booths, one with a giant jagged row of teeth the size of your body, the other a depressed looking blue rabbit.

 

Sidling up to the black granite of the bar, you take a seat, enjoying the warmth that seems to seep into the very surface. There isn’t anyone behind the counter – but you were certain you’d seen the door behind the bar close on your way in. Deciding to take a moment, you look up at the menu, ignoring the entire selection of alcohol.

 

Hm. You _could_ go for a burger or something.

 

“huh – look what we have here.” Without much warning the seat beside you is filled and you nearly jump straight out of your skin. You _know_ that voice- “surprised to see _someone like you_ here, of all places.”

 

Your eyes snap to Sans, part of you suspicious on how he’d arrived without even a warning. It was a little off putting if anything, with the way the two of you kept running into one another. He’s still wearing that big black jacket, red turtle neck poking out at you against his pale, thick bones. His eye-lights seem focused on you if anything, but how the hell can you be sure? You don’t know how skeletons see in the first place.

 

“what, cat got your tongue?” In what you think is a purposeful display of sharp teeth, he chuckles as the warm light of the place glimmers off of his sharp fangs. “you had plenty to say the last time we met, _bitch._ ”

 

You bite your tongue – you’re really not in the mood for his harassment, and right now all you want is something warm to eat and someplace nice to sit while doing it. If that means you need to leave and go home – then so be it.

 

You stand to leave, refusing to even look at Sans. You _will not_ rise to his bait-

 

A familiar, hard grip finds your arm and pulls you back into a plush jacket. Somehow Sans has you held tight against his side, and you can feel his grin against the side of your face. No one in the place is looking at the two of you – they just continue on, as if a monster _isn’t_ holding you against your will.

 

“you’ve really got some nerve, huh?” Despite your frantic need to _struggle,_ you stay perfectly still, knowing he would let go of you eventually. Even if this place was filled with rough looking monsters none of them would let him harm you, right?

 

_Right?_

“Let. Me. Go.” Finally finding your voice, you can feel him laugh hot air into the shell of your ear, something that makes you shudder.

 

“why should i? maybe you like-” Suddenly Sans is cut off, a sudden heat at your back and the sound of crackling embers making him pause. Confused, you listened as Sans huffs before shoving you away without warning, and you try your best to not fall to the floor.

 

“What the fuck was that for, asshole?” Spinning around, you turn to find Sans glaring at what looks like _walking_ _fire._ Oh. That would _definitely_ explain the smell.

 

The fire monster, as improbable as he seemed, was very much real. Dressed in a white button-up dress shirt and black slacks, purple flames crackled about in a human-shape. Black-tinted glasses sat neatly on his face, a thin crack in the flames on his face making for what seemed like a scowl pointed towards Sans. You weren’t quite sure _what_ you’d been expecting, but definitely _not_ this.

 

Walking back over to boldly take your seat next to Sans, you feel confident with the fire elemental seeming to glare at Sans for man-handling you. As you sit, his gaze slides over to you, purple flames seeming to dim. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, the sounds of his body akin to a whispering camp fire.

 

“…human…” Voice thin like smoke, you pause at the question in his voice. You aren’t quite sure what exactly it is he’s asking, but you think you get the gist of it.

 

“Oh, uh, I saw this place when I was walking by. I hope… I’m allowed in?” You’re a little nervous being the subject of such a _heated_ gaze, but with a single glance at Sans out of the corner of your eyes and you relax. The skeleton’s looking the other direction almost as if you don’t exist – whoever this fire monster is, he’d definitely helped you by getting Sans off of your back. You only wish you knew what he’d said, so you could use it against Sans if you ever needed to in the future.

 

After a long moment’s pause, the elemental nods slowly. Well, that was a relief – it would’ve sucked if you’d just walked into a monster-only establishment on accident.

 

“…grillby…” The monster hisses, holding out a black-gloved hand. Confused for a moment, you realize what he’s doing and take his hand in your own. The worn leather of the glove is warm, but not necessarily _hot,_ almost as if it’d been sitting out in the sun all day long.

 

“_____.” You greet, putting on a smile despite the monster sitting beside you. It would probably do best just to ignore him at this point if he was going to continue being an asshole. Without warning Grillby takes the hand he holds and leans in close – and despite some initial panic, you nearly fall out of your seat when you feel the crack in his face – definitely his mouth – press against your skin. It’s not even that hot, just a warm, cool sensation – which only confuses you even more. Beside you the sulking skeleton snorts, and you ignore his uncouth behavior with a roll of your eyes.

 

Once he lets go of your hand and you feel like you can breathe again, you do your best to not seem completely flustered by what was obviously a kiss. Deciding to be quick, you cast a quick glance at the menu above once more before ordering. “Uh, could-could I get a burger and some fries, uh… please?”

 

With another stiff nod, Grillby left for the door behind the bar once more.

 

Letting out a long sigh, you laid your head into your folded arms on the bar. You felt exhausted already, just by being here. It was _probably_ because of the sulking skeleton sitting beside you, throwing you some not so hidden glances every so often. Turning your head to look at him, you met his gaze.

 

“You’re really some kind of asshole, aren’t you?” You ask more or less casually, watching him narrow his eye-sockets at you as his smile turns into a grimace.

 

“no more than you’re some kind of cunt.” He returns, but less heated than before Grillby showed up. You were more than thankful for the Bartender’s intervention beforehand – although, part of what happened still unsettled you – definitely something to think about at a later time. Right now, you could feel your irritation building up to intolerable levels.

 

Sitting up, you turned to him, tapping out your fingers against the bar. “What is _wrong_ with you anyways?” You snapped, trying to keep your voice down to a low hiss. “Did I do something to _offend_ you or do you just hate humans _that much_? Maybe _you’re_ the racist.”

 

For a long few moments Sans just stares at you, and you’re certain you can feel your heart stop. The scrutiny of his gaze from this close is intimidating – the tall stature of his slouched form somehow still taller than you. His imposing, sharp teeth glint in the warm light much alike his bones, the solid enamel glimmering.

 

“i don’t hate humans,” He finally spoke, voice a low growl that you struggled to hear. “just _you_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm... I don't feel right with this chapter. Oh well! It was so long I HAD to cut it in half haha.
> 
> Next chapter will finish Reader's time at Grillby's and definitely start Reader's little play-date with Alphys, Undyne, and Guess who! <3
> 
> Also! The moving truck will be here TOMARROW, so for the next two weeks don't expect chapters to be coming out too often. I'll definitely be trying my best, however!


	6. The Run And Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> _" How long has it been? Three years? Five? Ten?_  
>  You’re more than tempted to break your promise. "  
> 1480 words, 5 pages.

With deft fingers you pick at your fries, more or less toying with the warm, greasy food. It’s not because it isn’t good – because fuck, if it isn’t the best thing you’ve eaten in _years –_ but because of the silent skeleton saddled on the seat beside you.

 

The vibrant violet flames of your host flickers back and forth behind the bar, shadows dancing in his step. Your eyes are caught on the black granite of the counter, the silvery lines and sparking cut of the stone standing out against the warm light. The fire elemental busies himself with cleaning a few ornate glasses, black shades giving away nothing on what he might be thinking.

 

Since Sans' admission you've been silent, lost in thought. Nearly immediately after Sans spoke Grillby had come back, steaming food in hand, setting it before you. Having lost your appetite, you had gently pushed your burger to the side to instead mess with your fries. Without saying a word Sans had snatched up the untouched food, and was currently drowning it in mustard. And to be perfectly honest, you really couldn't care less.

 

And now, here you were, the clock nearing midnight as you sat in a monster's bar next to a flirtatious man on fire and a large animate skeleton who apparently hated you.

 

Letting your shoulders slump comfortably, you rested your head in the cradle of your hand with a soft sigh. You weren't sure what to do now, but part of you was tempted to just leave. Besides you and Sans the only people left now was the depressed bunny and drunk feathery guy at the other end of the bar. Another part of you, however, was beginning to cave.

 

How long has it been? Three years? Five? _Ten?_

You’re more than tempted to break your promise.

 

Eyes skittering up to eye Grillby and then the menu, the sound of Sans saying your name catches your attention.

 

“Huh?” Feeling a little embarrassed for being caught not paying attention, you meet his sideward gaze with your own. Somehow his food is gone, a boney grip placed loosely on a bottle of mustard. You hadn’t seen him take a single bite of his food – how ever he did it, you just chalked it up to magic.

 

“not hungry?” It’s all he says, and it’s all you need.

 

Tired of his smug grin and his bastard gaze as he takes a long, impossible drag of the condiment in hand, you pull out twice the amount your meal was worth. Leaving the money on the bar you give Grillby a smile and he nods, pausing in his work.

 

Sans doesn’t say anything, and you have the angry feeling that he thinks he’s won. As you push your barstool in, you turn to leave. Only – right before you do you pause, and decide it’s now or never. Fist closed – you _swing-_

A tight, forceful grip grabs your wrist.

 

“didn’t think you were _that_ stupid.” Sans muses, but you know he’s unsettled, grin tense. You can feel each individual ridge and bump on his phalanges, and the way his touch seems to spark against your skin. His hand fits firmly against your wrist, large compared to your own.

 

“Let me _go._ ” You growl, for the second time this night alone. Sans must hear the tired desperation in your voice – the way it almost cracks with how upset you are – his smile relaxing into an easy smirk. You don’t tug or fight him, instead looking over to Grillby for help – only, he seems all but blind to the display before him.

 

“oh, c’mon.” Voice light, you watch as he shifts to face you better. You can feel your exhaustion digging deep into your skin, your resolve cracking further. If you deal with any more of _this_ , you’re going to _break._ And with the way Sans is looking at you, you think he might know it too. “i thought we were havin’ a good time. then again, can’t expect much better from a bitch like you, can i?”

 

You flinch at his words, and try to pull away only for his grip to grow even tighter – tight enough it hurts.

 

“what? don’t have anythin’ to say?” He laughs, and suddenly he’s letting you go, giving you a look that promises this isn’t the end of whatever the fuck is going on between the two of you. Huffing, he turns back to the bar, grabbing at your mainly untouched fries. “doesn’t matter. have fun – try not to get yourself killed, got it?”

 

You narrow your gaze at his back, knowing it wasn’t concern in his voice when he said that.

 

 

 

 

You let your hands trace idly over the painted walls, feeling the ridges and valleys dipping and rising out to meet you. Framed canvases hang nearby, some of them obviously amateur work, others expertly done. None of them are yours.

 

Feeling a familiar body press against your legs you smile, reaching down to scratch the top of Sansa’s head. She smiles at you – mouth open, tongue laying out with her white teeth glinting. She’s always so happy – she’d be happier if you bought an actual house rather than living where you did. She deserved a yard bigger than your bedroom to run through, after all.

 

Maybe it’s time to move.

 

Filing away the thought for later, you grab your phone and bag, checking the time. It’s about a half-hour until six, and hopefully by then you’ll be at Alphys. She’d given you the address this morning, and you’d been surprised to find her house was near Grillby’s.

 

You weren’t sure if you regretted going there last night or not.

 

Giving Sansa one last pat, you leave your apartment and make your way to your car. While normally you prefer to walk, it might be best if you actually drive considering you don’t want to take any chances. Besides, traffic doesn’t seem _too_ bad today, which you’re grateful for.

 

Humming as you get inside the well-loved red sedan, you pat her steering wheel akin to the way you pet Sansa. Dubbed Scarlet, she was a good car – despite being a little old, she was a car that hadn’t been yours originally but your mothers. It also helps that you’ve had Scarlet for your entire independent life without a single accident, so you trust the fact you can rely on her.

 

As you drive, you tap along the steering wheel along to some music, watching as the city goes by. Tall monstrous buildings glimmer in the falling sun, streetlights flickering on just as you enter the monster district. Crowds thin, buildings shrink, shadows grow longer. Eventually, you reach Grillby’s, but with a determined glare glued onto the road, your knuckles turn white as you drive by.

 

It isn’t much longer until you reach a nice looking neighborhood, the houses lining the streets more than likely home to monsters better off than their counterparts. It isn’t even a block away that you can see construction going on, and you know there’s probably going to be some nice, expansive - and _expensive  -_  neighborhoods here one day. Part of you is surprised, however, at how nice these homes are considering the nature of most monsters.

 

Eventually, you find Alphys’ house, a large looking home that barely looks more than a few months old. It’s painted a clean white, the setting sun shedding just enough light to touch the rooftop. The porch light is on – along with what looks like all the lights inside the house. A blue truck and a silver sedan sit in the driveway, the truck looking even older than Scarlet while the silver sedan looks brand-new.

 

Parking on the curb, you pull out your phone, still sitting inside your car – there’s more than a few texts from Alphys - nineteen of them, actually.

 

What the fuck happened?

 

Alphys, Today at 5:47 PM

*** um**

*** so undyne is here**

*** but um**

*** so is papyrus????**

Papyrus? You’d known about Undyne – she’d told you as much with quite a bit of gushing, including a vehement red blush on her face. That’d been during your visit to the diner with her. She’d never mentioned a Papyrus, however.

 

Alphys, Today at 5:49 PM

*** papyrus RESLLY doesn’t like humans**

*** raelly**

*** REALLY**

*** -.-**

*** imeanneitherdoesundynebutttt**

Wait – _what?_

Alphys, Today at 5:52 PM

*** considering they were both the head of the royal guard at some point**

*** capturing humans and stuff**

*** and killing them**

*** um**

*** hello???**

*** ohnoohgod**

*** are you still coming?**

*** ohshitifuckedup**

*** ohfuck**

*** _____?**

_Typing…_

Before you can even get a response in, however, there’s a loud knock on your window. Dropping your phone in surprise you swear, turning with an insult on the tip of your tongue. What you see, however, stops you.

 

Standing outside your window is not one, but two _very angry_ looking monsters.

 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm packing up my desktop tomorrow, just for those of you who don't know. Moving, and all that. I'll be trying to write and stockpile on chapters with my nextbook, which is /like/ a laptop, but smaller and crappier. At least mine is.
> 
> I'll try to do one a day or every two days. No promises!
> 
> Also, how do you guys feel about the current chapter lengths? I've been aiming for anywhere between 1,000 - 3,000 words, enough so that I can write at least one a day. I mean, it's not like it's a lot for me considering how much I love writing, but I want these chapters to be easily digestible, y'know?


	7. Your Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _He hates this city._ "  
>  1186 words, 3 pages.

It doesn’t take much to get under Sans’ skin – which is strange, considering the fact he doesn’t have any. Then again, in terms of things he has and things he doesn’t, there’s plenty he knows he _should_ have and things he _shouldn’t_.

 

He _shouldn’t_ resent the surface so much, for starters.

 

It took a hell of a lot more than anyone had ever known for them to get there in the first place. A lot more sacrifice than Sans was comfortable with – killing humans, sure, that was _nothing_. But that wasn’t _sacrifice._ Sacrifice was losing something willingly – the loss of something _important_ for something gained. All the other humans that fell and died were inconsequential compared to the last.

 

Sans didn’t like humans. He never did, and never will if he ever has any say in it. And he does, mind you – because he can’t fucking stand them. But… he doesn’t hate _all_ of them.

 

For a boss monster with minimal HoPe, ATK, and DEF, it does come with a few perks par the constant danger. Sure, he might not have much in the way of restraint and control, but beyond a massive pool of energy, he _does_ have the handy perk of being able to read souls outside of confrontations. It’s nice, being able to get a read on humans and monsters alike without really _trying._

 

It’s that ability that allowed him to see Frisk for who they were – that their kindness, patience, perseverance, _determination –_ was genuine. It also made him realize just how bad the entire fucked up situation was. He’d _liked_ Frisk. Which is definitely saying something.

 

It’s _______ he can’t stand, beyond anyone else.

 

It isn’t because he hates humans – no, if that was the case then it wouldn’t be worth mentioning how much he despised them. And it isn’t because they’re stupid – or smart, he doesn’t even have that good of a read on them yet. No, what he hates most about _____, is just how much they remind him of Frisk.

 

And worst of all, something he refuses to admit, is they scare him.

 

It’s not that they look like the child, but that they’re so _genuine._ Their intentions, emotions, actions – nothing hides from his sharp gaze. He can see _____’s soul much like he’d seen Frisk’s – a glittering jewel bright against the blinding city lights, a beacon of magic and raw potential.

 

He’s scared of how much he likes them – _respects_ them. It frustrates him, and that turns to anger which turns into him pushing back and pulling away. At this point he doesn’t know what to do with himself when he’s around _____. Does he insult? Flirt? Threaten? _Attack?_

He just wants them out of his life – he knew, he fucking _knew,_ the moment he saw them on the street in the cold wind, soaked down to the _bone,_ that they were trouble. Just not the trouble he was used to. And now he’s got to figure out how to deal with them before they become too much of a distraction – especially with the way the two of them seem to keep meeting up in the most interesting of places.

 

Places like his job and favorite restaurant.

 

Then again, he’s not much better considering the fact that as soon as they left Grillby’s he tailed them, and now he knows where they live. Speaking of which, considering the fact he’s supposed to be ‘working’ and it’s Saturday night – meaning Papyrus is busy at Alphys’ and Undyne’s – that means he has time to waste. And what better way then to do some snooping?

 

Maybe he _should_ be better about respecting personal boundaries – then again, why the fuck _should_ he care? He’s certain _____’s hiding _something –_ or at least, that’s his excuse for doing this. He’s just really curious – and while meeting someone day by day and slowly getting to know them is one way to do it, it’s just that much easier to look around their home and get an actual good feel about a person.

 

And so, here he is, the sun hailing it’s goodbye as streaks of sunset oranges and rose reds are tailed by a large blanket of navy blue. This part of the city is actually pretty close to the Monster District, more of a residential area then anything. The apartment buildings look like ants compared to some of the taller skyscrapers, and Sans knows better than to rise to any bait tossed his way in the form of nasty glares and all-too-familiar curses.

 

He hates this city.

 

Standing outside the entrance to _____’s apartment building, he tosses his cigarette to the ground and stomps it out with a practiced motion. Pushing himself off of the faded brick wall, he takes the closest shortcut and finds himself inside, on the third floor, three doors down from his destination. Once he gets to the apartment he unlocks the door with a click of his fingers, red magic sparking against his bones.

 

Opening the door, he steps inside.

 

And promptly finds himself on the ground, a flurry of fur and scrabbling claws pushing into his ribs from atop his jacket.

 

“ _oofh-_ ” Feeling the wet slobber of a tongue on his bones he bares his teeth, pushing the dog off of him. He’s never moved so fast – he rises to his feet and shuts the door behind him, using a spark of red magic to encase the hyper animal in a case of restrictive magic.

 

“what. the fuck.” He’s more than a little _rattled,_ using his free hand to wipe the sweat off of his skull. The mutt in his grasp whines and wriggles, pressed to the ground with the outstretched closing of Sans’ fist. They shouldn’t be in pain, but he’s certain it’s not comfortable. He ought to teach it a lesson.

 

“ugh,” Wiping himself off, he lets the dog go with a flare of his soul, watching as they run off, tail between their legs. Huh. At least he knows it’s a she now. And _she_ hadn’t seemed like she was attacking him – no, just playing. Unlike his brother, he actually doesn’t hate dogs – but he doesn’t like getting surprised, and almost _dusted_ because of some playful mutt.

 

Now that he can look around in peace, he finds himself in a living room with an open kitchen to his left, a hallway straight ahead, the space nothing fancy but still quite decent. A large couch sits beside him facing an entertainment center, the coffee table between the two holding a chess set and some remotes. The kitchen is pretty simple too; a microwave, toaster, some fruit and bread out on the counters – all in all, it’s a nice place.

 

What catches his eye most of all is the walls. They’re cheaply painted a luminescent white, dozens of paintings hanging in expensive frames in all different shapes and sizes. Some of them look better than others, some older and some more recent. As far as Sans can tell, they’re all by the same person if the signature in the corner is to be believed.

 

They’re not yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in Texas, old house is no longer ours now. Will be leaving for Arizona either Wendesday/Thursday, so.... It's like a 18 hour drive from where I'm at? Until Thursday I'll try and spoil you guys with chapters and stuff since I'm doing nothing but chilling in this hotel room for the next few days.
> 
> But yeah! Here' a chapter from Sans' point of view. I really wanted to write one. <3


	8. Crazy=Genius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " _Man, you really need to go get your will done. However that works._ "  
> 1101 words, 4 pages.

 “Outta the way, PUNK!” Pushing aside the much taller skeleton monster – who strangely reminds you of Sans, but duh, he’s a _skeleton_ – a much _buffer_ monster makes way to stand right outside your car’s window, opening the door with ease even though you’re pretty sure it was still locked. They – she, perhaps? – lean into the doorway, glaring daggers as if you’ve done everything wrong in the world to offend her.

 

She’s not like most monsters – hell, you’re pretty sure this is the first time you’ve ever met an anthropomorphized fish. Covered head to toe by brilliant cobalt scales that glimmer in the setting sunlight, her body is somehow toned and lean, scars and bandages lacing all across her skin. Her left eye is covered by a simple eyepatch, her mouth an even wilder display of teeth and menace than Sans ever could be. A long carmine river of red hair falls from her head into a ponytail, brilliant and blazing in the sunlight.

 

All in all, she looks terrifying.

 

“Are you the human who saved Alphys from those bitch ass humans?” She’s still glaring at you, lips pulled back into a snarl. You aren’t sure what to do but fidget under her gaze – you _really_ hadn’t been prepared for this – but you _should_ have known better.

 

“Uh, I… guess?” You wince when the skeleton besides her scoffs, catching her attention as well as yours.

 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, “I GUESS?” YOU AREN’T THAT STUPID, ARE YOU? THEN AGAIN, IT’S NOT LIKE I’M TOO SURPRISED.” The tall skeleton was standing idle behind Undyne, holding a _bone_ in his hands like he was ready to hit you. His voice sounded as if it was composed of fingernails clawing against a chalkboard, loud and menacing. Shit, and you’d thought Undyne looked intimidating – Papyrus, you presumed, looked ready to eviscerate you with his bare hands alone.

 

“Well, I mean-”

 

“ _Waaaaaaiiiit!!!_ ” Out of nowhere a voice cuts in, a familiar yellow-scaled monster running down to your car, looking extremely flushed and tired despite only running a few yards. Wearing a pink spotted dress Alphys pushes past Papyrus who gives a huff in response, Undyne casting her girlfriend a wary look. “Undyne! Please-please don’t hurt _-____.”

 

Undyne narrowed her eyes considerably at you before turning toward her girlfriend. “You’re sure this is them? The one that saved you?” She snarled once more in your direction, teeth yellow daggers that did nothing to boost your self-esteem. Alphys shrank back at the gesture, and you could _almost_ see something akin to tears in her eyes. “They look like some kind of grade A human scum to me.”

 

“I-it’s th-them. P-please do-don’t hurt-hurt them.” Once again stuttering to nearly unintelligible levels, Alphys recoils within herself, her beady button eyes staring up at Undyne _fearfully._ For a moment a part of you jumps to the conclusion that maybe – _maybe-_

“Hurt them? Fufufufufufu!” Undyne starts to laugh in a way that makes you consider slamming your foot down on the pedal in the still idling car, but the sudden suspicion that Alphys isn’t _safe_ here prompts you to stay. “Did you hear that Pa-”

 

She turns, but when she glances from an apathetic looking Papyrus – who seems unable to remove his glare in your direction - to Alphys she loses all pretense of her hostility. The small dinosaur monster looks ready to break out into tears, chubby hands gripping the sides of her dress loosely as she stares up at Undyne.

 

“Shit – Alph, babe, you okay?” She immediately crouches, falling to her knees to put two hands on Alphys shoulders. Immediately she flinches, but then leans into Undyne’s embrace to lie her head on her shoulder. She’s crying? Either Alphys is extremely fragile when it comes to any kind of violence, or she’s just _really_ overdramatic. At any rate, Undyne is stroking her scales, cooing to her softly while cursing about how stupid – and sorry she is.

 

Completely lost, you turn your gaze to find Papyrus rolling his eye-lights in an all too familiar gesture, before looking back at you with his seething glare. He clicks what should be a non-existent tongue, then turns away to stroll back towards the house. Undyne just continues to hold a shaking, whimpering Alphys while you sit there, completely lost.

 

So they _aren’t_ going to kill you?

 

 

 

 

Eventually Alphys pulls away from Undyne and you get the perfect opportunity to witness how fish and dinosaur monsters make out. Right outside your open car door, on the curb, the sun having slipped past the horizon. Admonished and pretty sure they’ve completely forgotten about your existence; you shoot Alphys a quick text.

 

_____, Today at 6:11 PM

*** um. alphys? im still here.**

A few seconds later and her phone goes off, but they don’t even react. They’re still kissing? And… whispering… Japanese to one another? Your _pretty_ sure that’s Japanese. Maybe you should just go home. This is getting _really_ weird.

 

“Um.” You reach out a careful hand, wondering if you would lose a finger if you tapped Undyne’s shoulder. Chances are yes, but at this point it’ll be a lot less painful then the second-hand embarrassment you’re being subjected to at the moment. “…Undyne?”

 

Before you can even touch her, she turns around, her face twisted into an awful snarl. It’s primal and rage-filled – she looks ready to tear your throat out with her teeth alone. You flinch back but try and stand your ground as Alphys flushed what must be seventy different shades of red from behind her girlfriend.

 

“Should we – uh – should _I_ go?” You aren’t quite sure you’re still welcome. Or if they’re even going to watch anime anymore. With the way they’d just been acting, you wouldn’t be surprised if that idea would be scrapped altogether.

 

“Oh! Uh, no!” Alphys squeaks, her voice high pitched with embarrassment. The way she tugs at the end of her dress, tangerine scales painted a lovely rosy pink is actually really cute. She’s cute, you think. No, not that way. But you do think she’s really adorable.

 

“Oh.” You pause, trying to ignore the way Undyne scrutinizes you. At least she doesn’t look like she wants to kill you anymore – she’s much more placated. You make a mental note to never be alone with Undyne unless Alphys is there.

 

Man, you _really_ need to go get your will done. However that works.

 

“C’mon, punk. Alph picked out some GREAT things for us to watch tonight.” Grinning devilishly, Undyne stands besides Alphys before frowning, seemingly confused. She looks around the yard, hands finding her hips. “Where’s Papyrus?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long??? The move went really well! I've just been so busy with my classes, 's all. This chapter is also pretty short, which I'm sorry about. You guys deserve more - especially after such a long wait. Also, this story is sitting at the cusp of 200 kudos??? (199 as I write this.) Like, wtf guys. Thank you so much! I'm getting such great feedback on this, so thank you guys!
> 
> Also, for those of you who have read my sin called "Cobalt Stings & Carmine Heelys" I plan on finally writing chapter two here soon, so be prepaired for that!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So I decided to try my hand at another multichaptered fic. It's been far too long, and I've really wanted to do something like this for a long time, y'know? So, here we go!
> 
> Tell me what you think!
> 
> [My Tumblr.](http://scripttura.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [My Beta's (crissy's) Tumblr.](http://pamaypaygirl.tumblr.com/)


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